One Second and a Million Miles
by AriandEzra
Summary: Being a housewife was never something Aria Montgomery had planned for herself. For two years, she's been stuck in a stale marriage. New York Times journalist, Ezra Fitz, is a wanderer with no real home. He goes where his assignments take him. However, when their paths cross, their worlds change and the meaning of love is redefined for them both.


**Long time, no see everyone! I want to get back into writing and have had an idea that's been circling my head for the past month. I don't plan on this story being one of epic proportions, but it's something I'm very excited to write and to share with you all. **

**It's loosely based off of _The Bridges of Madison County_ (a novel by Robert James Waller, then a movie with Meyrl Streep, now a gorgeous Broadway musical that I highly reccomend). Of course, there's major differences to fit this to Ezria, but I have it all planned out and I hope you enjoy what I have to share with you. **

**You know the deal; 20 or more reviews gets you a chapter faster! I'd really like to know what you have to say about this, especially because the source material is something near and dear to my heart. **

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.**

* * *

**"F**our days," her husband says. _Four days_ – its those two words that Aria Montgomery repeats to herself as she watches his silver Toyota Prius drive down the road, moving further and further down the road and farther away from their small Victorian style home and the porch that she's watching from. Soon he'll be driving out of Rosewood and then not too long after that, he'll be out of Pennsylvania altogether. And for some reason, those simple facts give Aria peace of mind.

It's not that she doesn't enjoy marriage or being in the company of her husband, but at twenty-two, Aria wouldn't mind a couple of days where the responsibility of being a wife isn't the first thought that pops into her head. For four days, she's allowed to sit back and relax, maybe do some things that normal twenty-two year olds do. Perhaps she'll catch up with one of her friends or do some shopping in a store that doesn't sell fresh produce. Why a convention for marketing has to take four days is a mystery to her, but Aria isn't one to complain.

Their home isn't like the lavish mansions that decorate the rest of Rosewood. In fact, Aria and her husband live in the downtown area near her Alma matter, Hollis College. It's ridden with pubs and dorms, but being around people her age doesn't make Aria feel so old beyond her actual years. Her husband isn't much older; Jake is twenty-four with big dreams and gigantic plans to attain said dreams. Aria was nineteen when he proposed. She thought what she and Jake had been love, so she said yes.

Except, Aria isn't in love with Jake. She appreciates him and the life he provides for her, but her toes don't tingle when they kiss and her heart doesn't beat out of her chest when he looks at her. That's how she knows she isn't in love with him. Aria doesn't believe that marriage took the thrill out of the relationship; there was never something there between them and it took married life to see it. But Aria won't leave. She can't. She wouldn't be able support herself on her own, especially with no job unless being a housewife became a profession.

Meandering into the kitchen, Aria pours herself another cup of coffee. Her hip leans against the counter as she takes a small sip of the bitter liquid. She likes her coffee black.

Not leaving Rosewood after graduation wasn't Aria's initial intention. After her freshman year, she met a few girls who planned to hear up to New York and they were all going to get a place to share while they made their way as workingwomen in the city. But obviously, things changed when she married Jake. As Aria looks out the window, she sighs. This life – the solidarity, the staleness, the lackluster bedroom activities and the non-tingling kisses – it has never been the life she envisioned for herself.

* * *

**H**e has four days to write this article. As he drives his navy blue Chevrolet pick-up truck past the 'Welcome to Rosewood' sign, Ezra Fitz contemplates just how he'll go about getting interviews about small town life. Should he go door-to-door like some salesman or camp out in the local coffee shop and ask every customer who walks in if he, a writer from the New York Times, can interview him or her? Ezra picks the second option. It's far less skeevy than the first.

At twenty-six, he considers himself a man of the world. Unlike most men his age, Ezra has driven the same blue pick-up around the entire country for whatever assignment his boss has in store for him. The only time he ever takes a plane is if he's venturing off to another country. Ezra would rather have the opportunity to see the country for all it's worth, even if it means driving a million miles.

Driving also gives him time to think. When Ezra got divorced from his college girlfriend, Jackie, he drove all the way from New York to Florida to clear his mind. When he's looking for inspiration, a quick run around the block usually allows something to perk his interest. Car rides are quiet, which is why Ezra likes them the best. He thinks of his blue truck as his home. New York might be his home base, but Ezra doesn't belong to anyone or anything. He's the world's man.

Rosewood and its people is his subject for four whole days. It's Ezra's canvas, and over the next few days, he plans to paint it with his excellent vocabulary and love for the English language. As he drives around to get the feel of the town, he notices just how small it is. Downtown isn't too far from the residential area. The main strip for shopping isn't too far from the school. He assumes it must be the kind of town where everyone knows everyone; Ezra couldn't be more right.

However, there are two coffee shops in Rosewood. One down towards the local college and one up towards the supermarket where mothers in Lulu Lemon yoga pants push carts around with their perfectly manicured hands. Which one would be the best to conduct his interviews is unbeknownst to him.

Ezra circles his car around a couple more times. He seems to find himself more drawn to the downtown area of Rosewood, simply because it has a more rustic feel than the evenly painted houses and lawns cut with absolute precision by people that aren't their owners. Downtown Rosewood is far quainter, with younger people milling about and small Victorian homes that double as apartments. Ezra feels at home here and not as if everyone will stare at him funny if he choses to stay here for a few days. So, he parks out front a light yellow Victorian home with intentions to ask directions towards Downtown Rosewood's coffee shop. Before going to ring the doorbell, he runs a hand through his tufts of dark curly hair and shifts his crumpled button down so it lays right and looks presentable.

* * *

**B**y now, Aria has kicked back in her small living room, a new cup of coffee warming her hand while she watches a rerun of some old sitcom from the 90s. In this moment, she is content. She's also pretending that she's inside a small New York apartment built for one rather than her home built for two. Having Jake gone lifts a feeling of suffocation Aria hadn't noticed until his car pulled out of the driveway earlier that morning.

Usually, the sound of a motor cutting wouldn't bother her, but it's so close to her house that Aria springs to her feet. Part of her is paranoid that Jake decided to skip the conference and suffocate her some more. The other part is curious, as it would and _should_ be for a twenty-two year old. Her doorbell ringing causes Aria's heart to race. Jake wouldn't ring the doorbell; he has his own set of keys. This must be a stranger, she figures, and her heart begins to pound wildly at the possibilities.

Of course, it could be some psychopath, but Aria has better faith in the world than that. Padding over barefoot towards the door, she tucks some curly strands of her chestnut color hair behind her ear. Aria's dainty hand twists the knob and soon, her front door swings, putting her face to face with a beautiful stranger. He has inky colored hair that falls in messy curls on his head and blue eyes that cause something electric to pulse inside of her. It's almost like a _zing_ through her entire body. However, Aria completely unaware of how much more fate plans for her than a simple _zing._


End file.
